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thanksgiving poetry

vi que usted hunched y temblando en las piedras
usted es mi compañero
amo mi hora del viento y de la luz
apenas ahora
he oído que cierta princesa
quizás
se levantó y el ámbar era la puesta del sol en el río
dentro de este sepulcro humilde un conqueror miente
dígame no
el niño que lanzó lejos la hoja después de la hoja
el mirar más allá

 



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